Starstruck
by Cheeky Slytherin Lass
Summary: Rita has interviewed many men in her life, but none of them are quite like Gilderoy Lockhart.


A/N: For the Convince Me Competition (Round two: GilderoyRita), the Ultimate Pairing Diversity Challenge, and the Pocket Morty Competition (Big Head Morty: write about someone whose head grows figuratively)

* * *

"You can do this," she says, fixing her lipstick and practicing her most winning smile. "You're Rita Skeeter, and you've faced more powerful men in your life."

But the brief rush of confidence fades as she appears before the luxurious manor. Merlin! Gilderoy has a nicer home than Fudge, and Rita has to admit that she's already a little intimidated.

Her hand trembling slightly, she lifts the intricately carved ivory knocker and knocks. The door opens, and Gilderoy Lockhart appears, donning the brightest smile she's ever seen.

"Rita Skeeter!" he beams, placing a hand over his mouth in faux surprise. "Was the interview today? I wish I would have known. I wouldn't have answered the door looking so atrocious if I'd remembered!"

He doesn't look atrocious, of course. His golden hair is glossy and full, and his skin has the slightest hint of a tan. There isn't a crease or a single imperfection to be found on the bright blue robes that adorn his body.

"You look lovely," she says, pulling her lips into a smile that she hopes hides the nervousness she feels. "As always."

Gilderoy waves his hand modestly. "You are too kind, Rita," he says, gesturing for her to enter the manor. "In you get! Time is money, my dear."

"Of course," she agrees, stepping inside.

She's greeted immediately by several Gilderoys on the wall, each involved in some thrilling activity- one, bundled in a thick jacket atop a mountain, another grinning victoriously beside a sleeping dragon.

"Adventures of yours?"

"But of course! I like to document my achievements, Rita. Fame always remembers. Never forget that."

She pulls out her parchment and quill, following behind him. "An exclusive look, dear readers," she dictates, and the quill scribbles along, "at the man behind the books. Gilderoy Lockhart is just as glorious in person, and his home certainly reflects such an extraordinary wizard."

"Flattering," Gilderoy says, leading her to a table that's been set for two.

"I thought you forgot about the interview," she says, brows raised. "Or do you often expect company for lunch?"

She leans in close, expecting a hint of something juicy. Secret meetings with foreign diplomats. A lover or two that have escaped the public's eye somehow.

"Well, when you're as important as I am, you never know who might drop by," he says simply. "But, we didn't come here to talk about me. Oh, wait! Yes, we did. Do continue."

Rita chuckles. "Gilderoy Lockhart is not only a daring adventurer," she says, and the quill continues to write, "but also quite a comedian."

She pours herself a cup of tea. "Now, Gilderoy, my readers want to know what's next for the man who has done it all. Any insights?"

"I don't like to plan, dear Rita. There's no thrill in organization. I like to let life carry me wherever the wind blows."

"Poetic," Rita notes, adding cream. "You played Quidditch in school, correct? Any plans of renewing your old love affair with the skies?"

"Now, I'm not one to drop names, but a certain Chaser for a certain team has simply been begging me for help," he says. "Such an abysmal record this year. And last year. Of course, this person would seek out a sage, such as me."

"Sounds like the Cannons," Rita mutters.

"I said no names," Gilderoy says quickly with a wink. "But I'm afraid those days are over. These old bones were not meant for flight."

"No planning, no flying. How are you keeping yourself busy?"

"Interviews. Piano. Good company and good wine," he answers.

"I see," she says, sipping her tea. "Will there be an autobiography soon? Your fans have grown restless. They're dying for more of their beloved hero."

"Hero," he chuckles. "I'm hardly a hero, Rita. Any man can subdue a werewolf or capture a yeti. I'm just an ordinary man who was in the right place with the right set of skills."

"Is that a no the autobiography?"

He grins. "Can't give away all my little secrets, can I?"

"I suppose not. But just a hint? A tiny little scrap?"

"I will tell you this. Expect to see more of me in the near future."

Rita shivers. She knows that it's directed at the general public, and at her. But she feels giddy all of a sudden. "I'm happy to hear that. I mean, my readers will be," she says quickly.

"Now, Rita, I have a question for you."

"Oh?"

She isn't used to having the attention shifted to herself. But his eyes are locked on hers, and she somehow doesn't mind being the center of his attention.

"Is there a Mister Skeeter in the picture? Or a hopeful suitor at all?"

"No. When you're a renowned reporter, people often find you intimidating," she says.

He takes her hand. "Oh, I certainly understand that. Average minds cannot keep the great entertained for long," he says. "And you, my dear, are far from average."

Her cheeks flush with color and heat, and she giggles like a schoolgirl being told she's pretty for the first time. "I suppose I am," she agrees.

"Now, would you like to keep my mind entertained?"

She smiles. "And a few other parts."

Realizing her quill is still going, she hisses, "Do not write that!"

Gilderoy waves his wand, and the tea set is gone, replaced by a candle and wine glasses. "In that case, I can give you a much more exclusive look."


End file.
